


Demons

by Anonymous



Category: xxxHoLic, 文豪ストレイドッグス | Bungou Stray Dogs
Genre: Blood, Blood Drinking, Clothed Sex, F/M, Outdoor Sex, Riding, Scratching, Smut, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-07 17:13:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19089484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: An arrangement with a man called a demon and an actual one.





	Demons

The spirit, invisible to most, remained draped over his shoulders as he looked down on the city of lights. In the distance, a large ferris wheel continued to turn. Farther yet were five black towers, barely visible in the night.

"Thinking about how to snuff them out one by one?" She tapped the tip of a long, cruel nail on his chest, above his dark, beating heart: a subtle declaration of possession. "You never fail to spin the prettiest webs, my clever Demon Fyodor. This one is yours to take."

Demon Fyodor. That was the joke, wasn't it? How she'd laughed in delight when they first caught wind of that name, pulling him to bed and wrapping her long legs around him.

"Only because it's theirs to lose." He remained relaxed even as she toyed with the buttons of his immaculate shirt, loosening the fabric to splay her hand on his thin chest and leave her mark on his neck. "As is always the case, for those who have much to value." A beat. Her breath, colder than the drafty air that flooded the ruin they were in, was such a contrast to her warm, painted lips. "Did you enjoy your present?"

"Hmm?" She giggled, parting from his neck only to turn and hover in front of him, placing her hands on his knees. The spirit's long blond curls framed her attractive face and spilled over her naked shoulders, and her smile was one of sweet innocence. "It was a pretty light show, I'll give you that. A skull full of anguish and forgetfulness fits right in my collection. More's the pity it's ended so soon."

"A hundred years is too short for someone like you," Fyodor agreed, guiding her by the waist to sit on his lap. The skirt of her tight black dress hiked up as she straddled his thighs, exposing the garterbelt straps she wore. His small, dark smile mirrored hers as he brushed his knuckles on her cheek. "A drop in the bucket, isn't it?"

She nipped his thumb in mild warning. "Reminding a lady of her age? How uncute of you."

"You're not with me for my personality." Fyodor tipped her chin up to look in the void of her eyes. "Rather, my goals are a mutual source of entertainment."

A statement and a question.

And the delightful resentment in Fyodor's gift had not left her unaffected. Even now, hours after she'd absorbed the energy, dark fire lingered in her veins, and it was heady.

"Hmm, there's always that." She guided his hand down, past her abdomen, above her lace-covered mound, and pouted. "Are you sure I can't have you for dinner?"

In the literal sense, she meant.

"The value of one soul isn't equal to a thousand, as you've said before." He slid his fingers further down and pushed aside the fabric, feeling how slick she already was as he continued their conversation. "Besides, that is not my bargain with you."

"So it isn't." The Jorougumo's laugh was breathy as he teased her folds and the crease of her thighs, never quite touching her nub. But that was fine. They were both very patient creatures. "And you've kept me well-fed otherwise since we met. My kin, too, have flourished."

Fyodor kissed her clavicle. "You've said before, though the details were lacking."

"Of course." She undid the clasp of his coat, uncaring of where the fabric fell, and moaned when a finger circled her entrance. "Those of the living world have no need to know our affairs."

Fyodor gave her a knowing look. "One might think otherwise, with all the hints you're giving."

The Jorogumo was preparing for something. She rather liked that this human whom she'd granted her protection and patronage to all those years ago could keep up.

"That is neither here nor there." She scraped the tip of her nail down Fyodor's chest, circling a nipple, ending at the growing bulge at the front of his pants, and gave him a half-lidded gaze. "All that matters is what you and I give for each other to take."

Greed and ambition was their common ground, long before their arrangement turned into one of seduction. Her human had always appreciated her natural cruelty and capacity to inspire fear, that which he loved to coax out of others.

Instead of answering, he slid a finger in her, catching her throat with his teeth as her head fell back.

"Ah," she giggled, clutching his head close as she rocked her hips in return. "Restrained, as always. I wonder what face you'll make once you capture that man and his tiger. It's wonderful to see you find actual contest."

"I wonder," Fyodor murmured on her skin, adding another finger and crooking both. His hold on her waist remained firm as she shuddered. "The tiger's presence affects you as foxfire does. Will your agony be as sweet as your pleasure?"

Barely a moment passed, and the Jorogumo's nails shredded his back.

The sickly smile on Fyodor's lips never wavered as he undid the zipper on the front of her dress with his teeth, breath warming her skin as he exposed her breasts. Tit for tat.

"Your power has grown since then," he continued with an unapologetic rub of his fingers that sent her gasping against him. Fyodor nibbled the swell of flesh now so conveniently close to his mouth. "Wouldn't you, of all people, want to see how it turns out? It's unbecoming of a spirit of malice to shy away from chaos."

If there was any mortal who'd come close to wooing her, it was Fyodor. The sting of his words soon followed by flattery was borne from intimate experience in destroying fragile egos, and the Jorogumo was thrilled with the promise it held.

"Mmm," she crooned once she found her voice, retracting her claws and blindly reaching between them to undo Fyodor's pants. "You're in a mean mood today, aren't you. No need to torture yourself on my account."

"This is hardly any difficulty," was Fyodor's dry reply as she easily guided him into herself, fingers, dick and all, and all she knew for a long while was the sensation of _fullness._

" _Move,_ " she commanded, when want began to grow in her.

Fyodor remained perfectly still. Waiting. The only sign he was even affected was the flush on his chest.

Displeased, and not a little frustrated, the Jorogumo dragged a steady finger down his throat. The point of her nail was enough to draw a bead of blood, but not to slice an artery, and she felt his dick twitch within her.

What a deeply unpleasant man.

A reminder of why they got along so well.

"Anger suits you," he said with quiet fascination, as one would silently appreciate a distorted Zhostodi painting on tarnished metal, and began to fuck her in earnest, his thumb playing with her clit. Nothing more was said as he drew sweet sighs from her lips, the friction of their bodies drowning out even the iciness of her breath.

When they both came, their mouths were curved in equally sharp smiles, hers stained with blood.

**Author's Note:**

> Then there's [this](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19136671) thing


End file.
